I am Hetalia
by xMirror-Mirrorx
Summary: Feliciano had no enemies. So the Italian decides that EVERYONE is his enemy and murders them one-by-one in the most horrific ways. Turns out Felicano isn't as innocent as he seems. Rated M for blood/gore. No intentional pairings but can find if you squint
1. Prologue

_Oh man, oh man. This is something old...I had this idea ages ago and actually put it to paper, or rather Word, in January...or was it December last year...? Either way, this is **old**. D; (6-ish months is old to me...)  
><em>

_I originally posted this on dA (deviantART), the prologue that is, and had intented to write more...but there were a lot of complications. I was lazy, had exams to study for and my computer wiped. Yeah, the latter pee'd me off big time...and I lost all hope. (But hey, my computer was upgraded to Windows 7...)  
><em>  
><em>I was inactive on dA for a longgg time, and totally forgot about the fic. My friend kept reminding me about it, and saying that people were waiting for me to continue it (including herself). She full-on threatened me! ;A; I did think about abandoning it at one point, but my friends' serious threats and the positive comments I received have made me think otherwise.<br>_  
><em>I read over it again, and I liked it (surprisingly)! So, yes. I'll do this! 8D<br>_  
><em>However, I'm in the middle of exams at the moment, so I'll update when they're done. That'll be on the 22nd June (2 days before my birthday)! J-Just throwing it out there... _<br>_  
><em>ANYWAY, sorry for boring you (if you're <strong>actually <strong>reading this)! _

PSYCHO!ITALY FTW!

* * *

><p>Feliciano Vargas. Most commonly known as Italy Veneziano, the representative of Northern Italy. He was a carefree young man, your average pasta-and-girl loving Italian. The nation was a completely useless ally who would always get beaten up by Britain and France, forcing Germany to get involved and bail him out. All he was really good for was chatting up pretty women and mass producing white flags.<p>

That was the general image Feliciano gave to every nation. They saw him as no threat to their country, and yet no help at the same time. But even so, he wasn't hated. Ludwig's first friend was the foolish Italian. Kiku admired Feliciano's love of art and his country's rich history. Feliciano still ran to 'big brother' Francis when he needed help, and the Frenchman would gladly give him advice. In fact, he had good relations with almost every country out there. But would it stay that way?

Lately, Feliciano had been thinking about a subject other than pasta and girls. He had wondered why none of the other nations hated him. Why didn't they curse at him, or ever say that they hated him? The Italian knew full well that he was a bumbling coward that could do nothing right apart from wave a white flag. Surely, someone wanted to tell him what for? There had to be someone that hated the fact that he did nothing, but his country still prospered?

_I'm not looking for trouble or anything...but there must be someone! Everyone else has their enemies, someone who hates them...but wait. __**Why **__**do I want an enemy...?**_

Feliciano lay in his bed, confused. His brows furrowed in thought. He didn't understand his thoughts. He was searching for an enemy. Countries normally search for friends.

"Ah, I don't know! This thinking is giving me a headache...oh, sorry _fratello_..." Feliciano rolled to his left side to see an empty space beside him. That empty space was usually occupied by his older brother Lovino, Italy Romano or Southern Italy. Lovino had been so sick and tired of Feliciano still being close to Ludwig, whom the dark-haired Italian despised, that he began sleeping on the sofa downstairs.

Feliciano frowned. "What is his problem?" The Italian ran his hands through is hair in frustration. His brother had always yelled at Feliciano for babbling on when he was trying to sleep. Most of the time the younger sibling would talk about Ludwig. And Lovino always struck at his younger brother when he mentioned the German's name.

The aurburn-haired male immediately sat up straight. "That's it! He hates me! _Fratello_ hates me because I'm friends with Ludwig. And Lovino _despises_ Ludwig..." The Italian's face suddenly morphed from a cheesy grin into a heinous scowl.

"Sleep tight, Lovino. You'll have a _wonderful_ morning tomorrow..."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **This is set in near enough modern times._

_Damn. I didn't think it was **this **short. But oh well, it **is **only a prologue~! :')_

_I hope you liked it and will stick around for the horror-fest! :P_

Oh, and I'm also planning another fic~! ;)

**Translations;  
><strong>_  
>Fratello - <em>Italian for 'brother'_  
><em>


	2. Author Note: SO SORRY!

Oh my gosh guys! You don't know how sorry I am! I have updated in _MONTHS_! I am a **MONSTERRR**! ;A;

This is mainly because I've been tied down with college! The workload is _EPIC_! (In a bad way!) I have homework **EVERY SINGLE DAY**. And then the weekends are spent _DOING HOMEWORK_. I think I may just drop dead now... D;

So that's why _I am Hetalia _(or any other of my fics, series) is/are on stand-still. **AND I SINCERLEY APOLOGISE!** I've seen you faving/alerting my fics (mainly this one) and I feel _SOSOSO_ bad!

So that's why I **PROMISE** that I'll update in the week of I get this month! I'll put aside a few hours to work on the next chapter and even give you a bonus fic! :D (I mean it this time!)

I hope you forgive this fool of an author! I really do! :/

Lots of love and thanks for being there!

~ xMirror-Mirrorx

_**(OH CRAP. I MUST UPDATE MY LETTER FIC TOO! FUUUUUUUUUUU!1!ONEE!)  
><strong>_


End file.
